Clain awoke to find himself out of another dream. The sun had yet to rise as the outside of the shutters to his window were still dark. He then held out his hand towards a iron cage with a crystal suspended in the middle which was placed atop a stand by the bed. He channeled a bit of mana into the crystal and it began to give off a soft yellow glow which gradually increased to a clear white as his eyes eventually adjusted.

Putting on some pants and soft leather shoes, he stood to place the caged crystal lamp unto a hook hanging from the ceiling. He faced a mirror on the wall just above the stand by his bed and poured some water into a basin from a pitcher and proceeded to wash his face.

After donning a shirt and a vest, he checked his pockets, obvious and hidden. He found his purse and the other items to still be in their places and put on a plain band of steel on his wrist before covering it with fingerless gloves.

He then made his way down the stairs and found the rather lean, ginger-furred feline beastman attendant already at the desk, giving a soft smile and greeting with sharp jade eyes a courteous “Good morning.” to Clain.

“Good morning, Gar.” Clain returned the greeting. “How long till breakfast?”

“Still around an hour to go Sir. How about some warm soup from last night or ginger tea?” Gar suggested with a bit of a grin as it was a kind of specialty and pun that the curiously all ginger hair/furred staff of the Orange Root Inn, which was situated between the Academy dorms and Adventurers Guild.

“Some tea is fine Gar.” Clain playing with the beastman's remark and took a seat in the lounge on one of the sofas arrayed in front of a fireplace and shortly after settling Gar handing him a nice white porcelain tea cup decorated with green vines on its surface.

“Thank you Gar and please hand this to the cook.” Clain handing small pouch with a handful of leaf-warped mixed spices he recieved as payment from the previous day's assistance quest.

“Your welcome Sir and thank you. The cook will be most pleased with this product. I believe the market price is good for another full weeks stay with meals in the inn.” Gar promptly accepting the pouch with a smile and disappearing into a door towards the kitchen and returned to his post behind the counter.

Clain enjoyed the soothing tea, a mild ginger aroma slightly masking the base of the lightly roasted tea leaves. Breakfast came soon enough, though an unremarkable mix of three strips of bacon, two well done fried eggs, and a heaping cup of mashed potatoes, but was still delicious with the hints of spice interspersed here and there enhancing the simple spread.

“Thank the cook for me Gar.” Clain said as he exited the inn and shortly made his way to the Guild.

It was early, but already abuzz with activity as every dawn welcomed scores of various new jobs, updates to old ones and the processing and payouts of raw materials submitted.

“Sir Clain. Good morning and welcome. A letter for you has arrived from the Wanderering Couriers.” the neat and smartly dressed blonde receptionist handed him a yellowed, sealed letter, which he promptly pocketed. Said receptionist had an androgenous look hinting neither feminine nor masculine qualities but was clearly over the age of 20 as per guidelines of the guild staff employment codes and also possessed a considerable level of survival skills, aside from the obvious administrative ones.

“Thank you Ochre.” Clain mirrored the curt and formal tone, hiding his inner thoughts of the true nature of Ochre’s person as he clearly dressed and presented a masculine facade but was treated as a young lass by many of the local adventurers. Though it would be some time much later would he discover the answer to his nagging queries.

He opened the letter which he read to find full of care and concern from his aging parents for his safety and health. It spoke of how content they were in the mundane services to the administrator and their hopeful seeing of a grandchild before they go senile. The end part was devoted to reminding him of that fact along with the contradiction of not needing to worry about them. He planned to send another letter by tomorrow and made his way to the Academy.

The streets were now a bustle with the rolling of wooden wheels over the cobble pavement, the clink and clack of various armors worn by the equally varied array of peoples making their way, shouts of hawkers and sellers and the less louder exchanges of haggling and gossip. The lively chaos continued even as the city guard patrolled the streets in threes.

Wiping his hands on a handkerchief before entering the Academy’s pale gray stone gates which bore the words Aura and Arcane and with a large round shield between them and had the imaged of an open tome below a torch whose rays bore sharp and piercing points like that of arrows, bolts and spears, Clain remembered the creed introduced to him when he first entered the Academy a few weeks ago to confirm his apprenticeship. Those words were “Magic and Martial prowess are naught but dull tools honed and perfected by knowledge and discipline.” a simple statement that each student, instructor and alumnus learns and lives by.

“Welcome back Mister Crispin.” An hooded older lady in onyx robes trimmed with gold and silver greeted him as she extended her hand.

“A pleasure to be here again, Master.” Clain took her hand and felt the still present strength in her grip, betraying the looseness of the skin over the, seemingly withered hand. Then a flair of mana surged over the thin flesh on bone and her grip tightened and was answered by equal resistance.

“Good work lad.’seems you aren't forgetting to practice.” The old crone took off her hood revealing her braided silvered hair thinned and discolored by time. The hanging gray skin with green undertones pulled into a smile displaying a set of bright white teeth and the fire in her eyes broke the image of the wisened older lady, hinting a touch of danger enveloped by a critical and calculating gaze. “Now follow me.” she made her way without waiting for a reply.

“Master I think the staff and students would be in for a shock with the way you look right now.” Clain remarked as he caught up, placing himself just half a step behind her. And as if on cue the faded and aged image seemed to revert into a form of a person just past their prime.

“Ahaha. Yes. Yes. They would be surprised. Hardly anything gets past you lad.” Clain’s master faced him with the same amused smile she had earlier, though the beaming teeth and sharp eyes were the same the skin now had a supple texture to it and the graying was gone and a more pronounced deep green was there. A more common person would call her image that of a beauty that time had been kind to and in another phrase ‘aged-gracefully look’.

“So what is it for today Matriarch Waytreader?” Clain inquired to the order of the tasks that had to be done for the day.

“Headmistress or Lady Artrask is fine. No need for that archaic title.” she said dismissively before starting. “First are the classes you shall partake in and next are your co-instructorship.”

“Uhm. Classes? I thought I was just to be part of a research group on developing casting techniques? ” he wondered

“Yes and you will also take part of those two things. The fee for those shall be covered by your pay as an instructor and any left over will be a bonus for your personal expenses.” The sly smirk on Lady Artask’s face pushing him no other choice in the matter.

Clain could only sigh internally and relent. “Thank you Headmistress. May I ask which classes those I would be in and part of?” now opting to just go with the unexpectedly good offer as usually it was children of the well to do could enroll in the academy or a working scholarship of sorts that allowed them, aside from being screened of aptitude before hand. Though the Academy did offer a basic education, which was subsidized by the City-State's government, to all its citizens.

“You are to attend a class in Arcane Magics in combat applications and another Martial Prowess for small group and solo applications. As for the instructorship, you are to work with the Practical Applications Instructor in both Magic and Martial fields. The schedule you will have is one class on the first and second days of the week and then co-oversee the practicals on the morning and afternoon of the fifth day of the week. The sixth day is for the submission of reports and assessments and the seventh is a rest day for staff and students, though some prefer to use it for additional research, practice and the like.” the stated as a matter of fact.

A quick pause and Clain responded with a question. “What about the days between them Headmistress?” thinking he might use it to earn a bit more coin with posted jobs in the local Adventurers Guild.

Then a glint in her eyes flashed as she gave her reply. “How enthusiastic of you Sir Crispin. Its great to see your interested more in your future work and studies. May I suggest taking up a few more classes.”

Clain couldn't help but acquiesce as the statement oozed of being preplanned and no would simply mean a more difficult workload.

“I suppose it wouldn't hurt to gain more knowledge.” The turned a corner and he continued. “Which classes do you have in mind Headmistress?”

“Just some in History and Magic Theory. Don't worry history is to give you a different perspective from that in Rothram and the Magic Theory is connected to the research you are already here for.” she ended as they entered out into a large room marked with crossed stave and wand with an open tome as background.

The nature of the room was obvious from the sign which said “Arcane Research” but the degree was emphasized by the mess of various instruments, magical tools, wands staves and crystals arrayed atop a single long table half filling the room and walls with shelves filled with musty or fairly freshly copied tomes of Arcane knowledge of various spells, their casters or origins, of obscure and common knowledge on the materials and compounds with mystic value and with scribbles and comments on the pages penned by the previous researchers. The last quarter of the room had a cleared area with what seemed to be a torso of a mannequin of pure onyx, just a head and body with no arms and legs placed on a stand made of the same dark material.

“Miss Yhala, I have something for you.” The headmistress called out quite loudly but not enough to be considered shouting.

A shuffling of papers and a clunk and clatter moments later, a head of loosely braided auburn lochs peeked out form behind the table.

“Oh, hello there dear. I might have dozed off a bit. Sorry about that and sorry for the mess.” miss Yhala said as she adjusted her robe, one of similar style to the headmisstres but with silver and purple trim, then trained her gaze on the space where Clain stood though without actually looking at him and more like through him.

Clain’s first expression was that of wondering as there was hardly anything seemingly out of place in the room, though there was a great many things in it, they all had their place. The second expression was then of submission as he let go of the defensive skin of aura he had and the recalled his field of mana.

“Now now. Yhala that isn't a good way to treat your new apprentice.” Headmistress Waytreader now showing a more cunning grin as she was asking the lady of similar rank to her to settle down.

“Don't be like that Artra. I'm simply examining the lad for how much he can assist me in my research.” miss Yhala exhaled as lady Artrask noticed the slight shit in energies near her.

An unusual emphasis on the word caused Clain to ready his mana and aura to move in a moment's notice. And such action just made the hooded lady in front of him to drop her hood and reveal her striking features beneath it though marred by the rather undignified expression she had on her.

A green like that of grass in spring shone in her eyes and the base of her hair still retained the near fiery red which had trailed and faded into an auburn, and a face having a quality of maturity and timeless beauty to it which was reinforced by the sharp and long point of her ears.

“A high elf.” Clain thought to himself as he found the distinct mark to all high elves the ethereal flecks of color in their pupils and the absurd thickness of mana she exuded had doubled and almost felt like a physical weight on his own shoulders which made him turn to look at the Headmistress.

He found her grin return to her previous courteous smile and found the pressure from miss Yhala blocked by another of equal or greater force with only a mere couple of inches above the headmisstres’ skin.

“Yhala please relent.” Lady Artrask said coming off like an unfelt reprimand before adding with “This shall be your new research assistant. He is known as Clain Crispin of Rothram or as some of his past students call him ‘Instructor’.

Clain bent down at the waist in a bow. “Thank you Headmistress. ‘Clain’ is just fine. It is a pleasure to meet you Arcane Researcher, Magus Yhala Alfelia of Trask or formerly Magus of the Crag Elves.”

“Ho-ho. Excellent boy. It seems I am familiar to you though only as much as an old book can tell you. That last title was something I had left a long time ago, when I was much younger.” A shimmer or remembering an age passed was reflected in both ladies eyes.

“But no need to dwell on those times only the long-lived have experienced. I may not look like it but I am already at the last quarter of my lifetime.” she said calmly and truthfully as elves lived for about four centuries and hardly show any signs of aging after the first half century and then show a decline in their last half century.

Though the elf in front of them was an exception to the norm as she had already lived past four centuries and was already twice the age of the city of Trask with 467 years of living and she looks like that of a human lady not a day over 21 who's beauty is in full bloom with both a hints of innocence mixed with a regal maturity but whose eyes shine with the depth of wisdom that puta the most scholarly of humans to shame.

Clain then glanced to back the headmistress now finally noticing the same kind of ethereal flecks in her eyes before being caught by her own gaze and then small features suddenly disappeared causing him to straighten back.

“It seems he has more potential that I had first perceived. I have other matters to attend to. So I bid you both a good day” the Headmistress remarked before leaving without waiting for a reply.

“Well now boy, you are quite the surprising thing.”

Clain failed to notice that the Magus had already closed the gap and had locked eyes with him as he had turned back to face where she previously was after watching the Headmistress leave.

He couldn't move for what seemed to be like several long minutes but was only a few seconds as an unknown force pinned him to not look away, all the while his eyes were not even able to blink. And just as suddenly, the force was gone and his curiously not dry eyes were able to move again and was hit by a wave of dizziness which he fought to shake off.

“Very good. Very good.” miss Yhala said before a quick gesture over Clain’s forehead was made along with a wordless chant and Clain felt a rush of foreign energy envelope him. “Now with the introductions out of the way let me gage how much pressure can you endure before you hit your limits.”

Clain then noticed they were not in the Research room anymlre but were standing in one of the practice/sparring fields, the actual on he had been asked to demonstrate his theory over a week ago, with over ten meters between them. He the felt his mana flow into a stave in his right hand and noticed a jeweled vambrace on his left arm.

“Ready? Begin.” another person of to one side standing between the two of them clearly announced.

Then mana in and around the magus was in the process of swirling and forming which snapped Clain alert as he dropped into a mobile stance ready to flee at moment's notice.